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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046195">Disaster Boy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian'>Polyhexian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abortion, Multi, Oral, POV Third Person, Post canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pregnancy, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, This is a trauma whirl fic you know what that entails, lost light timeline</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:47:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24046195</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Whirl's spark lay below layers of armour plating and an entire cockpit. Bearing his spark required shifting his cockpit downward, flat against his stomach, and then the plating beneath it outward- it was awkward, difficult, uncomfortable, gangly, and served as an excellent reminder that he had never been meant to merge with anyone at all. It wasn't just that he was violent, or crazy, or an empuratee, it wasn't anything he had become, anything he thought or said or did. It was what he was.</p><p>Whirl had been born broken.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cyclonus/Tailgate/Whirl (Transformers)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Disaster Boy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"Oh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>fanboy</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" A familiar voice called down the corridor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First Aid flinched. Before Whirl's cobalt blue helm even appeared in the doorway, he knew who it was and he had gone from having an altogether pleasant day to immediately tense enough to warrant paid vacation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello, Whirl," First Aid sighed, "Who has shot you today, hm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nobody, can you believe it!" Whirl cried, stomping over to and sitting down on First Aid's desk, "My internals feel like a tsunami though, and usually, that just means I been drinkin' too much, but seein' as I ain't had nothin' to drink today, or yesterday, or the day before, somehow, I figure it's ballpark I might be for real dyin' this time! Ain't that excitin'?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very," First Aid commented, looking Whirl up and down, "You don't look so unwell."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It comes and goes," Whirl waved a claw dismissively, "you get lovely chipper Whirl for now, until my spark starts having a seizure again, and then you get good ol' angry Whirl."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First Aid frowned behind his mask, feeling an inkling of genuine concern, "You feel it in your spark?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ayup."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, you might actually be for real dying then," First Aid shrugged, pushing himself to his feet, "Come on, go sit on one of the actual medical berths."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hooray!" Cheered Whirl, skipping over to one of the actual medical berths while First Aid washed his servos. He kicked his legs back and forth giddily until First Aid made his way over with some diagnostic machinery on a cart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Where's the rust bucket, eh?" Whirl inquired, "Did he die while I was gone?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not yet," First Aid hummed as he unspooled s cable from the cart and turned on the machine, "He took the night off to spend it with Drift."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ooh, he's gettin' plowed!" Whirl jeered, wiggling his antennae suggestively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I would have guessed the other way around," First Aid mumbled, still staring at the machine's readout as it blinked on, then paused and turned to Whirl, narrowing his visit light at him, "Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell him I said that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good for him either way, the old sod," Whirl snickered, "Real shame he left you here alone to suffer in celibacy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am not celibate," First Aid snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oooh?" Whirl leaned forward, "deets, deets!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," said First Aid, primly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw," Whirl whined, "No fun."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never am. Here, disengage your medical access covers," First Aid said, rapping two knuckles beneath Whirl's cockpit, where he knew such access ports had been rerouted to after his hands were removed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know, if you needed help staying not-celibate, you've seen my Wreckers Declassified profile," Whirl cooed, as he snapped the access covers open, leaning back to move his cockpit out of the way, "They don't call me a loose cannon for nothin'."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They call you a loose cannon because you like shooting people," First Aid mumbled, as he plugged in a medical access cable from the machine and one from his own wrist, going over the readout with his optics.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>And</span>
  </em>
  <span> because I'm wild in the berth," Whirl argued, "Good wild! Fun wild! Everybody loves it!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mm, I'm sure," said First Aid, as if he were placating an irate sparkling, "Oh! Oh. Hm."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh?" Repeated Whirl, cocking his head to the side and tilting it to look at the screen, even though the data was nonsense to him, "Good 'oh' or bad 'oh?'"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good, actually," First Aid chuckled, pulling out the medical cables from Whirl's medical access panel, "You aren't dying this time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hooray!" Cheered Whirl, throwing his arms in the air, "So what's the prognosis, doc? What's wrong with me that ain't killin' me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're carrying."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl went completely rigid. "I'm what?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're carrying," First Aid repeated, "a sparkling, I mean. Obviously you have a few options, so y-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Terminate," wheezed Whirl, vocalizer spitting static like he'd had to reboot it, "I want to terminate."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First Aid paused, "Okay, that's obviously fine. We can make an appointment for tomorrow, so I can-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no," said Whirl, shaking his helm rapidly, arms beginning to shake where they gripped the berth at his sides, "Today. Right now. Terminate right now." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whoa, okay, hey, Whirl, buddy, calm down," First Aid said, raising both palms in a consoling way, "It's gonna be okay. You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Waiting a day is standard, to make sure you don't do anything you can't undo before you've had time to really think about it, but if it's that important to you, we can do it today. Are you okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no, no," Whirl repeated, wavering like he might pass out, "Carrying? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Me</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Absolutely not. No way. Not possible."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean- it's definitely possible," First Aid said, slowly, eyeing Whirl's chest cannons with concern, "Why do you think it wouldn't be possible?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I ain't supposed to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>fertile</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" He spat, spinning his optic toward the doctor, "I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> I was </span>
  <em>
    <span>infertile</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" First Aid balked, "Who told you that? Why?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm an empuratee!" Whirl yelled, crushing the berth beneath his claws before he released it and waved them emphatically, "That's </span>
  <em>
    <span>part</span>
  </em>
  <span> of it!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>First Aid's hands wavered in front of him uncertainly, "Uh- sometimes, but, not- not usually. Where did you hear that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That- it-" Whirl stood up, shaking his helm, "It was- I mean, that's what everyone said back then, that's what I </span>
  <em>
    <span>thought</span>
  </em>
  <span>- you mean this whole time I've been- I've had- Primus </span>
  <em>
    <span>dammit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, seriously?!" Whirl proceeded to knock over a cart of cleaning supplies within his reach and First Aid scooted the diagnostic machine a little further out of the way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, you're super upset. I really think you should sleep on it, even if you make the same call in the morning, you'll feel better about it. Whirl?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't- argh!" Whirl huffed, furious, upset, holding his helm in his claws, shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You can stay here the night if you want," First Aid offered, generously, then leaned forward, lowering his voice, "I can put something really dramatic on your chart if you want. We can tell everyone you were bitten by a sharkticon if it will make you feel better."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I- I-" Whirl wobbled, looking more vulnerable and panicked than First Aid had ever seen him before, "I want to terminate. I need to terminate. Now. Right now." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whirl, I really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> strongly advise waiting the twenty four hours so you don't make any rush decisions you'll regret, even if you don't change your mind, sleeping on it-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now, First Aid, </span>
  <em>
    <span>right now</span>
  </em>
  <span>," Whirl emphasized, spinning on his heels to run back to the doctor and grab him by the collar plating.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whoa! Okay, okay, Primus, yes, Whirl, we can do it now, if it's that important to you. No one is going to make you do anything. It's all up to you. Are you okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine," Whirl snapped, "I just wanna get this over with. How long will it take?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Only half an hour. You're very, very early on, it's not viable yet. It's a very simple procedure. You can even go back to your room afterward."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good," panted Whirl, finally starting to calm down, "Good. Okay. Let's do this before anyone else finds out. "</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whirl sat alone in his habsuite, staring out his window and into the abyss of space with one wide, unblinking optic, clenching and unclenching one claw over his cockpit, behind which his spark lay. Most mechs sparks lay just below their chest plating, which they could fold away easily for a spark merge. Not Whirl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl's spark lay below layers of armour plating and an entire cockpit. Bearing his spark required shifting his cockpit downward, flat against his stomach, and then the plating beneath it outward- it was awkward, difficult, uncomfortable, gangly, and served as an excellent reminder that he had never been meant to merge with anyone at all. It wasn't just that he was violent, or crazy, or an empuratee, it wasn't anything he had become, anything he thought or said or did. It was what he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>born</span>
  </em>
  <span> broken.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He clenched his claw tips together, the closest he could manage to a fist, imagining he was crushing his spark in it. The only part of him that dared be soft. Weak and fragile and wretchedly irrelevant. Whirl imagined that even if he ripped it out and crushed it to embers, he wouldn't feel a thing. He had been functioning for so long completely disconnected from his spark and all the feelings that lay within it, surely he didn't actually need the thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His commline beeped and he ignored it. It went silent and a text came through instead.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[21:35:33] Tailgate: i havent seen you in two days. are you okay?</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>Whirl regarded the message </span>for a moment, before tossing it in the trash bin and returning to the window and his brooding. </p><p>
  <span>He wanted to talk to Tailgate. He definitely wanted to talk to Tailgate. Him and Cyclonus both. But </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> was a selfish desire, and he had been trying to, for some reason, be a better person, in recent times. So, they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>not allowed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to find out about this, and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>way</span>
  </em>
  <span> too fragged up right now to talk to either of them without spilling the beans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frankly, he was having second thoughts on a lot of things suddenly. Everything had been great when it was just sleeping with the Honeymooners, real good fun stuff, like, no risk for anyone since he was un-knock-up-able, and no one wanted to have kids with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all people. Everything had been great when it was friendly fragging with his friends. And they </span>
  <em>
    <span>were</span>
  </em>
  <span> his friends! And Primus, he didn't want to frag that up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No one</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to be friends with </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and for very good reason. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> about to ruin a good deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl stared out at a single, distant star passing by, light years away. He had a good thing going. He ruined everything he touched, but this thing, this one thing, he wasn't going to fuck up. Not this time. Not for anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>When Whirl finally emerged from his exile of self-pity, the first thing he wanted, more than anything else in the galaxy, was a shower. He smelled terrible. He hadn't been out of his room in days. He made a beeline for the washracks, ready to feel clean again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was mostly empty when he arrived, fortuitously enough, aided by the late hour. In one of the front stalls Whirl could just see the top of Rewind's head over the wall as he stood beneath the solvent, the only other occupant to the room. He made his way to the very back, the largest stall that was mostly only used for large equipment and him. The light from the rest of the room didn't reach well in here, giving it a gloomy atmosphere, but it did the job, and afforded him some privacy at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noted how quickly after he arrived he heard the other shower turn off and Rewind leave. Whirl supposed he shouldn't be surprised. He and the old Rewind had been sort-of friends, but the new Rewind seemed to have never liked him. He wondered what difference there could have possibly been between this Lost Light and the other one that had made the difference in solidifying this Rewind's distaste for him, but he had resigned himself to never really know. It wasn't like he wasn't used to being disliked, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whirlibird? Are you in here?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl paused as the solvent ran over his frame, cleaning out seamlines and washing away heatstuck grime, and considered, briefly, pretending he was someone else- but that was stupid, and obviously wouldn't work, and wasn't really worth the effort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," he said, gruffly, after a moment, "I'm back here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tailgate scurried right back into his shower stall without a hint of modesty, visor bright with concern, ever the empathetic one. "Are you done hiding in your room?" He asked, ringing his servos together anxiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," said Whirl, turning back to the solvent to run water over his helm casing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good," said Tailgate, sounding relieved, and hesitated for a moment, before he crossed the stall to wrap his arms around Whirl's waist, pressing his face to Whirl's lower back, even as solvent ran over them both, "I was worried about you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl winced at a pang of guilt in his spark for having made the minibot worry about him so much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw, come on, legs," Whirl said, trying to sound jovial and teasing, "You know you ain't gotta worry about me. Ain't nothin' managed to bury me yet, huh?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Tailgate laughed, sighing, "You are, I'm told, pretty unvincible."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Damn straight," Whirl nodded, and noted that Tailgate's servos were beginning to stray, no longer pressed flat against his abdomen but gliding lower, across his hip joints, fingers ghosting over seam lines and connector sockets. He arched his spinal strut into the motion, silently consenting to further exploration, which Tailgate seemed more than happy to accommodate, palming at his closed interface panel and pressing static kisses with the flat of his mask to Whirl's back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Miss me, huh?" Whirl asked, sighing into the pleasant ministrations as he felt warmth pool behind the shutters that hid his spike. Tailgate nodded against his armour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let me show you," Tailgate said with a nuzzle, giving him yet another opportunity to back down if he wanted, ever concerned that Whirl didn't know how to say no to anything. Whirl snorted, shaking the bot off and turning around to lean his back against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It ain't gonna suck itself," he said, and Tailgate burst with laughter, punching him in the thigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up, you jerk, I'm trying to be sweet," he chided, but his tone was teasing, light, bizarrely consistently unoffended by Whirl's propensity for crass jokes. He didn't give Whirl an opportunity to make another one, though, reaching forward to put his hands on his hips again, nuzzling his face against Whirl's inner thigh, static laced mask leaving a trail of tingling metal wherever he touched. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl shivered as his interface panel opened, and Tailgate's mask snapped back, revealing his crude intake, just as function over form as his own equipment. Despite its intent, though, the both of them had managed to pry pleasure from their poorly designed features, whether anyone had ever wanted them to or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One hand still on his hip, the other was on his spike as soon as it was out, pumping him slowly to full mast as he rolled his hips forward, and Tailgate pulled his face back, taking his spike down his intake with his servo still holding the base.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl groaned as the head slipped past the (disengaged) filter ring at the back of his throat, activating the suction, gripping his claws on nothing against the wall behind him. Tailgate bobbed his head, creating delicious stimulation as he continued to pump the base he couldn't take in time with his motions. It wasn't until his other hand slid between his thighs to tease at the soft, swollen flesh of his valve that he came with an aborted cry, doubling over and spilling transfluid all down Taikgate's intake, spilling over onto his face as he pulled back to keep from choking him at the last second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tailgate wiped at the transfluid on his face with a chuckle, looking up at him with a reverence Whirl definitely did not deserve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're a mess," Whirl panted, and Tailgate snickered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good thing we're in the washracks, huh?" He said, then reached up to grab one of Whirl's servos, tugging him downward, "C'mere. Come down here and kiss me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl came down there and kissed him.</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whirl let Tailgate grab him by the hand and drag him back upstairs after they'd buckled down and finished washing for real, up to Swerve's, where Cyclonus was apparently already waiting for them with one of those frilly little cocktails he liked so much, all old fashioned and bitter. Whirl hated the taste of the things, even secondhand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyclonus gave one of his rare, tiny smiles when he noticed them, and Whirl's traitorous spark fluttered in his chest, as if that smile was for him, and not Cyclonus's actual for real Conjunx holding his claw. He tamped down the volley of Feelings that brought up and tagged them to review Absolutely Never.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I see Rewind was correct," Cyclonus said, as Whirl slid into the booth across from Cyclonus, and Tailgate hopped up beside the purple lurch, "You've left your room."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, yeah," Whirl confirmed, "I'm done wallowing now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Care to disclose what you were wallowing over."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Naw," said Whirl, "It wasn't nothin'."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyclonus studied him for a moment, face blank but optics burning as they searched him, and Whirl wondered if he would push the issue, but he relented. "If you insist. It is good to see you again. Your company was sorely missed."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Whirl said, leaning on one of his elbows and kicking Cyclonus lightly in the shin under the table, "ya junxy already let me know </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> one pretty well."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyclonus actually chuckled, which was another rarity, before he raised his optic ridges and looked down at a sheepish Tailgate, "You are positively insatiable."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm weak, Cyclonus," Tailgate bemoaned, "He was so pretty under the water."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl ignored the flip in his spark from the compliment, even if it was more than likely ingenuine (no one in their right mind would ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>seriously</span>
  </em>
  <span> call him pretty), but the sentiment was still appreciated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Perhaps you can spend the night in our room," Cyclonus suggested, "You've been in your own long enough."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ooh, you want a turn?" Whirl cooed suggestively, putting his other elbow on the table and leaning his helm on his claws.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"If you'd like, that can be arranged," Cyclonus responded. He hadn't dropped that lilting smirk since they had arrived. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ayy, tittyguns!" Hollered Swerve, and Whirl looked up as the minibot scuttled over to lean on their table, "You're back from the dead!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," said Whirl, "I'm a ghost."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Very spooky," snorted Swerve, "What can I getcha then? Without you here drinking through my stock my revenue stream is starting to tank!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl snickered, and was about to ask for his favourite Nightmare-Fuel-And-Phosphorous-Acid mix, when his spark flipped again, reminding him of the procedure he'd had a few days prior. He felt silly, hesitating, since he knew, obviously, he wasn't carrying anymore, but the thought of engex still made his tanks surge uncomfortably, and he thought better of it. "No high grade," he said, "Just gimme the regular stuff."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What, my best drunk?" Swerve whined, "Don't tell me you're going soft now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Aw, I ain't had a decent refill in a week," Whirl scoffed, "I'll drain your engex stores later, shortstop."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll be looking forward to it," Swerve sighed, "Congrats on leaving your room, anyway." He waddled back off to the bar, tapping a serving drone to take care of the simple order.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's unlike you," Cyclonus commented, "I've never known you to pass up an opportunity to drink."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you sure you don't want to talk about something?" Tailgate asked, concern returning to his optics. That wouldn't do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I ain't been out of my room in days," Whirl said, "You know how miserable engex is on empty tanks? No thanks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This answer clearly did not satisfy his interrogators, but neither of them pressed further. He sat back and sipped his fuel while Tailgate spent the remainder of the evening telling about all the gossip he had missed while he had wallowed, and Whirl thanked whatever deity had bothered to keep an eye on him for once that he'd managed to keep this whole fiasco secret. He wasn't ready to ruin this yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>On the way back to the junxy's habsuite they passed First Aid in the hall. Whirl noted the way the doctor watched him, walking in a line like a guilty man, obvious he was going to have yet more irresponsible sexual encounters with the same idiots that had knocked him up the first time. He wondered what the medic thought, before deciding he didn't care what he thought. He had a good thing going and he wasn't going to let a fragging pregnancy scare cheat him out of the first good friends he'd ever had. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He kept his optic on the ground as they passed, anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl fiddled with his claws, standing outside of the junxy's berthroom, still feeling First Aid's optics burning into his back though they had long since passed him. Suddenly a thought crept up his spinal strut, cold and clawing: what if they wanted to merge again?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He'd have to say no, which would be unlike him, and that would give up the whole game. They'd peg the reason immediately, and then what? An argument? Uncomfortable resignation? Pity? No, no way, he wanted none of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl took a step back, "Actually, uh, I think I want to recharge in my own room tonight, after all." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyclonus's claws stilled on the doorpad and they both turned to stare at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? How come?" Tailgate asked, visibly deflating. Whirl's spark twisted again, hating to disappoint him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh, I guess I'm just actually tired," he lied, "I'm really not up for foolin' around tonight."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyclonus finished tapping in the door code and it slid open. "Then we will not engage in any 'fooling around,'" he said coolly, "You may still recharge here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl hovered between the invitation and his escape, eyeing the room beyond the threshold he had spent so many nights in. Smaller than his own, but noticeably less lonely. Tailgate's pleading optics sealed the deal, and he nodded, following Cyclonus inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tailgate skittered onto the berth immediately, making grabby hands at him while Cyclonus removed his sword from his back and set it on its stand. Whirl crossed the room, again unable to say no to those beckoning servos as they reached out for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fell into Tailgate's clinging arms with a sigh, crawling into the berth that had never really been big enough for all three of them (had never been big enough for him) and shifting his cockpit down to let the minibot crawl up and wrap his arms around Whirl's neck. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I did miss you," Tailgate sighed, "I was so worried you hurt yourself again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl ignored another pang in his spark, dimming his optic. "You don't gotta worry about that, pipsqueak. I ain't gonna do nothin'." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I do gotta worry about you, though," Tailgate affirmed, "You won't worry about yourself." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He isn't wrong," Cyclonus added, sitting down behind Whirl on the berth, "another day and I would have insisted on a welfare check."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm welfarin' just fine," Whirl mumbled noncommittally, though guilt was starting to eat at him beneath his plating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Cyclonus lay down behind him, the sharp edges of his mouth pressed soft against the back of his neck. Whirl shuttered his optic with a sigh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you want to talk about what upset you so much now?" Cyclonus prompted, voice low. Whirl flinched, arms tightening around Tailgate like if he just held on firmly enough he could hold the moment itself in time forever without having to answer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It ain't nothin'," he muttered, but he knew he was trapped now. He wasn't going to be able to get away without giving up </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It was clearly something," Tailgate responded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I changed my mind," Whirl said stubbornly, "Let's just frag and recharge." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," said Cyclonus succinctly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl huffed, inventing awkwardly as he scrambled for anything else to stall for more time and came up empty clawed. "Remember that tank ache I had last week?" He said, finally. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," said Tailgate, voice warbled with concern.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl turned his helm away to stare at the dimmed window and the endless space beyond, distant stars that watched him and glimmered accusingly, as if they had been waiting for this. "Turns out I was carrying," he sniffed, ignoring the way his spark was twisting and writhing, like it wanted to snuff itself out and save him from any further suffering. Whirl knew it would never be so merciful, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What?" Gasped Tailgate after a beat of silence, "carrying? Was it- what- I thought you were infertile?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So did I." A star glittered somewhere a million miles away as if it were laughing at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ours? Me- me or Cyclonus's? Is that- there's not- is it-" Tailgate babbled, his servos starting to move over Whirl's cockpit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Was," said Cyclonus. Tailgate's hands went still. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," said Tailgate. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I took care of it," Whirl said, waiting for them to pull away and kick him out, bracing his frame for the loss of warmth, "It ain't nothin' for y'all to worry about. I wouldn't do that to you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An excruciating moment of silence passed as the words settled, before Tailgate reached up, grabbed the prongs of his helm in both fists and </span>
  <em>
    <span>yanked</span>
  </em>
  <span> it down to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whirl, are you under the impression we wouldn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> your sparkling?!" Tailgate's visor was flared and Whirl wasn't sure if he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>horrified </span>
  </em>
  <span>or </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh," said Whirl, dumbly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Primus, Whirl, what do you think this </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" Tailgate wailed, "You </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> that?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- uh," Whirl stammered, having been braced for a lot, but not this, "It's- I </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> what this is, I ain't askin' for more than I'm givin' or nothin'- I'm not-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking about</span>
  </em>
  <span>?!" Tailgate cried, clambering to his knees to lean over Whirl's cockpit and stare down at him, aghast, "We spend every single day with you! We keep trying to get you to move into our room! Are you insane? Do you seriously think we aren't trying to keep you?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It- uh-" Whirl balked, staring up into the minibot's visor, which was quickly becoming wet, and boy, this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> what he had planned for, "I mean, no, yeah, I get that, but not like- you know, I get that it's different with me than with each other-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>What!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Tailgate exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I believe we have seriously underestimated your capacity for self destructive belief structures," Cyclonus wheezed, finally speaking in a voice that sounded like he had forgotten to vent until that moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl shook them off and kicked his legs against the berth to push himself up, scooting backward and away, "You don't gotta worry about my feelins'!" He asserted, waving his claws in front of him, "I don't need no pity or carin' for, I'm a big bot and I know how things are and that's fine, I'm okay with tha-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna kick your aft!" Tailgate exploded, clapping both hands to the side of his head, "we've been doing this for </span>
  <em>
    <span>months</span>
  </em>
  <span> and you've just been </span>
  <em>
    <span>stewing</span>
  </em>
  <span> in this and didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>say</span>
  </em>
  <span> anything?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uh," said Whirl, not for the first time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you, you idiot!" Tailgate exclaimed, "Cyclonus loves you! </span>
  <em>
    <span>We</span>
  </em>
  <span> love you! This is a love thing!" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh Primus. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The L word.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Whirl's winglets jerked backwards and stiffened. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cyclonus put a hand on Tailgate's shoulder, silently beckoning him to calm down. "Whirl," he said, keeping his voice even, "What was your interpretation of our relationship?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It- I-" Whirl felt like his helm was spinning on a top, like the ship had done a barrel roll and left him behind, "You two are my friends."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We </span>
  <em>
    <span>interface together!</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Tailgate said, gesturing wildly, and Whirl wasn't even certain what he was trying to indicate at this point beyond exasperation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That- that doesn't mean anything," Whirl stammered, uncomfortably, "interface is interface."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We </span>
  <em>
    <span>sparkmerged</span>
  </em>
  <span>!" Tailgate pressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl felt one of his pincers brush across the breadth of his cockpit self consciously without his permission, his body as traitorous as usual. "I told you I was infertile. I'm a safe lay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tailgate sagged, looking hurt, "You think we would just- use you like that?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"N- no, I-" Whirl started, before trailing off again. Tailgate looked like he was going to say something else, but he stopped, optics darting up to Cyclonus in silence. Clearly they were on private comms, despite being right in front of him. Whirl kind of hated when they did that. He didn't need to be protected from whatever it was they were saying about him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whirl," Cyclonus said, and Whirl turned his optic up to him, "What is it you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" His voice was steady, optics searching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't want nothin," he murmured, feeling bizarrely small beneath those searching optics, "I want whatever you give me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you want a relationship?" Cyclonus rephrased. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-" Whirl stared at him, feeling his plating crawl along his spinal strut, "I don't know the difference. I don't want things to change."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's a relationship, Whirl, we are </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> a </span>
  <em>
    <span>relationship," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tailgate finally said, unable to contain himself any longer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," said Whirl, lamely, "Cool."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tailgate dropped his faceplate into his servos with a groan, "We were </span>
  <em>
    <span>avoiding</span>
  </em>
  <span> the L word because it makes you </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak out</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but I didn't think you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> capable of self delusion." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Surprise?" said Whirl, weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mere, you dolt," sighed Tailgate, reaching his servos out. Whirl eyed them uncertainly, but he still had no idea how to resist those grabby hands reaching for him and crawled back over to be clutched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cyclonus, lie down, come over here and help me hold him," Tailgate bossed. Whirl squirmed nervously as they moved back into their normal berth pile, a knot of clinging limbs and carefully placed kibble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry," Whirl mumbled, wondering when it was all going to come crashing down and turn him loose again into cold space.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Apology accepted," Cyclonus said against the back of Whirl's neck, vented air warm over his armour, "I would not have been upset you were carrying, Whirl."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Me neither," added Tailgate, kneading the wrist joint of one of Whirl's claws absently in his servos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right," said Whirl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"And I am sorry you felt that way," Cyclonus sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl fidgeted, trying to ignore the irrational compulsion to throw them off and bolt for the nearest exit. "I don't wanna be a carrier anyway," Whirl muttered, "Even if y'all wanted it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's fine!" Tailgate tightened his grip on Whirl's wrist, "That's a perfectly good reason not to! I just don't want you to feel like I- like we'd just </span>
  <em>
    <span>abandon</span>
  </em>
  <span> you if you didn't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We can just knock Cyclonus up instead next time," Tailgate whispered mischievously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Or you," Cyclonus commented, and bizarrely, Whirl could hear the smile returning to his voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Or me," Tailgate agreed, "But, uh, maybe a little further down the line, huh? No rush."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No rush," Cyclonus repeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No rush…" Whirl mumbled, "Right. Are we for real dating then? Like all of us? At the same time?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tailgate audibly thunked his head against the berth. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Whirl." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," said Whirl, pulling the minibot closer, "Cool."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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